


Knife's Edge of Glory

by marsellia_rose



Series: The Bitter Suite [1]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, End of the Fake AH Crew, Fake AH Crew, GTA AU, M/M, No Proofreading We Die Like Men, relationships are not the main thing, theyre sort of background?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 19:35:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9139096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marsellia_rose/pseuds/marsellia_rose
Summary: It started and ended the same way.With fire.With screaming.With a bang.And with Ryan standing alone.





	

It started and ended the same way. 

With fire. 

With screaming. 

With a bang.

And with Ryan standing alone. 

\----

The Fake AH Crew was invincible. At least, that’s what other people thought. Only they knew just how often they brushed death- just how great the risk was in their lives. 

The risk had decreased at least in part since Ryan joined.

Everyone- both the cops and other gangs- were afraid of the Vagabond. And it worked in their favor- people were more afraid of the Fake AH Crew as a whole, especially after what happened to McCormick and his crew.

There weren’t really enough pieces left that cops could readily identify most of them. 

Maybe that’s when it started. When they first walked into the warehouse, and saw him standing there. Blood on the ceiling. Blood on the floor. The stench was overwhelming.

That’s not even to mention the guts and other unidentifiable pieces of human remains lying around him.

And then there was him.

He’d taken his mask off. He was covered in their blood- it went up past his elbows, and was smeared across his face.

They weren’t scared of him.

But maybe that’s when it started.

\--

They all had their own apartments. It made some things easier.

Sometimes they needed alone time. 

Though more often than not, they stayed at Geoff’s overly large apartment. 

It worked out alright. 

They didn’t really visit each other’s apartments- just Geoff’s. Geoff knew, realistically, that if he asked, they’d let him go to theirs. But he didn’t ask.

He also didn’t keep a record of where they were. He couldn’t risk anyone learning that. The press had been coming after them even more recently- led, in part, by that young new reporter, Jon Risinger, that Ryan had let go after killing McCormick’s crew. Ryan didn’t really believe in killing people that he thought were interesting, and apparently Risinger’s ability to remain calm in the face of all that bloodshed had fascinated him. So he let him go.

The whole deal with McCormick’s crew was bad. The Fake AH Crew had already said they were going to start cutting back- Geoff was trying to woo this terror of a woman named Griffon, and Jack was busy feeling guilty about wanting to date a lovely girl named Caiti while not wanting her mixed up in this life. Michael had already married Lindsay- not that she was the sort to be bothered by the bloodshed- and Ray was spending a lot of time at his own place. And it was Gav that had been shot. It wasn’t a bad injury- not by any stretch, in fact it was barely a scratch- but it was still something that had to be dealt with.

So Ryan dealt with it. He didn’t even bother to call it in- he knew they were busy, and he wasn’t, so he might as well just take care of it. If McCormick’s crew thought they could shoot Gav and get away with it, they had another think coming.

This was why he was glad he had his own apartment. Because he caught Jason Saldana, and with the equipment at his apartment- and the soundproofing in his basement- that was enough.

He also was wildly grateful he’d thought to install a powerwasher in his basement. It had enough pressure to wash the blood off the ceiling. 

He hadn’t expected it to escalate like it did. But it was war McCormick wanted, and so it was war he would get.

Ryan hadn’t used the crown in a long time. The gun stayed tucked away, a remnant of before the crew.

But if he was going in alone, he may as well go all out.

It was a gun to put Gavin’s to shame. Solid gold inlay, swirling up the obsidian barrel into a detailed crown design in the side. It was a thing of beauty, custom made. He knew a guy, Marcus, back in the day. A real artist when it came to guns.

It was only Marcus’s particular talent- and his penchant for keeping his mouth shut- that had let him live after Ryan had commissioned this gun. But Marcus was an interesting guy, with a particular skillset that Ryan had not quite been ready to rob the world of yet.

But anyways. The crown was not a gun he used often. The gold plated bullets stayed neatly lined up in their box.

He only took one with him. The crown was meant to make a statement. It wasn’t for common criminals. But McCormick wanted war. And he was brave enough to ask for it.

Who was Ryan to deny him that?

It took him under a week to track down McCormick’s warehouse.

It was a bloodbath. Ryan had always had a penchant for knives, and he never really minded blood. He aimed for their knees first, to take them down. Incapacitated them so he could go after McCormick. Tied him up, too, so that he could watch what Ryan did to his crew.

That’s when he saw the reporter. 

Tied up in the corner, he was a young thing. Dark hair, tired eyes. But he didn’t look scared. And wasn't that a shock.

So Ryan went and pulled the gag from his mouth, asked him if he knew who he was.

“Yeah. You’re the Vagabond. The Mad King.” He worked his jaw around the words, as if he had had the gag on for a while now. He still didn’t seem scared.

“Aren’t you afraid of me?” Ryan dropped his voice low, letting his knife glint in the warehouse light.

The young reporter actually laughed at him. “You’re shitting me, right? I’m Jon Risinger.”

The name made everything make more sense. Ryan hadn’t met him yet, but he’d heard of him. Jon Risinger, the rising young reporter who risked his life on more than one occasion for a story. Jon Risinger, who stalked Haus for two weeks just to get the scoop on whether or not Spoole had actually left them. Jon Risinger, who went missing three days ago while on the edge of a big story- the turf wars on Los Santos. 

He really was a fascinating human being. 

Ryan nodded, more to himself than to Jon. “I’ve heard about you.”

“Of course you have.” Jon sounded more exasperated than anything else. “Look, I don’t think I’ve written anything about you yet, and I’m pretty sure I can spin this story so that we never interacted, and I didn’t know who you were, and you just came in and killed everyone here and left and then I got myself out, if you just want to not kill me?”

Ryan actually laughed at that. “No. You can print me in your papers. Not our…interaction. Just what I do next.” Standing up, he dusted off his knees, and went back to McCormick’s men.

He kept an eye on Jon the whole time, though, and while he didn’t look impressed, he never flinched away either.

\--

The news story came out four days later. McCormick’s crew killed in vicious bloodbath by the Vagabond of the Fake AH Crew, formerly the Mad King.

It was a fairly good article, all things considered. Detailed McCormick’s plans, and how he’d been trying to incite an all-out gang war in the city. It honestly almost painted Ryan in a flattering light.

Geoff had been less than pleased when he found out Ryan hadn’t told them what he was doing. But realistically, Geoff was too distracted too care for long. Geoff had been spending more and more time away from his apartment, down at the tattoo parlor where Griffon spent most of her time.

But it was fine. They still did jobs, and it worked out fine.

It wasn’t quite a year later that Geoff was getting married.

They all went to his wedding. It was a glamorous, exciting occasion.

They didn't know it, but it was the last time they'd all be together. Enjoying that party, the drinks and food and atmosphere.

It was a week later when Ray came to him with his confession.

They’d always been the closest. Ray was the first person he told that before Los Santos- before the Vagabond- he’d been the Mad King. He’d pulled out the articles, let Ray read about mass murders and people being buried alive and the true meaning of terror in a city, told him about being a quiet man who’d just had too much in a short time, who’d finally snapped. Ray had, in turn, told him about the Red Assassin, about roses and blood and silent assassinations in the night, about not caring who got hurt in the process as long as the money kept rolling in, about being young and poor and then slightly older and homeless, about realizing he had a keen eye and a steady hand and how much money he could make with that. 

Ray was the first person Ryan had taken to his basement, shown him his collection and the skeletons in the closet.

Ray was the only one who’d even seen the crown and lived. 

And in return Ray had shown him a sniper, hidden in his ow apartment, black ebony and garnet inlay, roses detailed up the sides, a custom scope. A thing of beauty, a reminder of a different time, so different from the hot pink sniper rifle he carried now. He’d told him that he wore hoodies now because he never wanted to wear a tuxedo again, not one that could get blood on it at least. He told him about half faced masks and always being underestimated.

And now, Ray told him he wanted to die.

Not really die, not for permanent. Just enough to make everyone think he was dead, so he could disappear and leave this life for good. So he could have a normal life with this girl he’d met- Tina- and get a normal job and not kill people anymore unless it was digital.

Ryan understood it. After enough deaths you just got tired.

So he helped him fake his death. The Brownman is the first of the Fake AH Crew to die. Their beloved sniper.

He thinks the others suspected the truth. But they didn’t ask, and he was so very grateful. He doesn’t want to lie to them, but he will. He made a promise, tucking a dark sniper and a purple hoodie both into the back of his closet. Ray wanted nothing to do with either anymore. Brownman and the Red Assassin both finally ceased to exist anywhere but in Ryan’s mind.

Geoff sold the apartment not long after. Jack had already sold his, moved into a house with his girlfriend Caiti. Geoff ended up living down the street from him. Michael and Lindsey’s apartment became the base of operations. 

Gavin started dating.

That was around the time Ryan met Mica Burton. 

He could tell from the first time he met her that she had serious potential. She was running her own street crew- or had been, till they’d been killed. But she’d gotten herself out, and was looking to start over.

He offered her a place to stay, and then offered to train her.

He wasn’t sure what it was, but something about her made him want to make sure she succeeded.

She was a quick study, too, and great shot. A genius with a knife. 

He knew, somehow, that she was gonna be great. 

So he called Marcus up.

Her style was different than his, but he knew she’d appreciate the gesture.

Besides, they had started going on heists less and less, and if he was gonna work with her, she’d need to have her own gun. 

That’s when the next big change happened.

Michael and Lindsey moved to New York.

Realistically, Ryan had seen it coming. They needed something new. But it was a shock to Gavin. He was left sort of aimlessly drifting. After what had happened to Dan, he’d had a hard time finding direction. It was sort of like that, again. 

And, of course, because they always had perfect timing, this was when Jack and Geoff both decided to retire.

He stopped seeing all of them after that. He kept tabs, for sure. Made sure he always knew where they were, made sure they didn’t need his help. But they all tried to settle into normal lives. 

\--

It’d been a year since Jack and Geoff had retired when Ryan heard about Lindsey. It seemed like to The Family had finally caught up to the Jones’s after all, Michael’s New Jersey days coming back to haunt them. 

‘Course, then he heard about Nice Dynamite stirring up a storm in New York, and figured Gavin had it under control. 

As for Los Santos, well. The Mad King reigned supreme. But he was getting tired, and Mica, with her own crown gun- ivory inlay, gold plating, a thing of beauty- she was ready to take over.

That’s when he heard about Haddock.

Grey Haddock had always been a little too big for his britches, trying to take on more that he could handle.

And rumor had it that he was trying to tell people Brownman was still alive, and that he knew his real name.

So Ryan started the cleanup. 

He tracked down everyone and anyone who had heard Brownman was still alive. He killed, and killed, and killed until he was sure the only person left in Los Santos who’d ever even heard the name Ray was Haddock.

He knew Haddock knew he wanted his head, and he knew Haddock was too smart to fall for his usual tactics. But he also knew Haddock, just like everyone else in the city, thought the Mad King worked alone. 

So he set a far different trap. He started a rumor that he was looking for knowledge on Brownman, and would be at the old FAHC warehouse if anyone had any info. Ryan knew that the knowledge of his position would goad the other into coming.

It did.

And, as expected, he had prepared himself accordingly. He’d arrived at the warehouse with a dead man’s switch and a warning that if he died, Ray’s identity was set to be delivered to the police. 

So even if Ryan was willing to die for Ray, he’d still get arrested.

But Ryan had a different plan. 

See, Ryan wasn’t even in the warehouse. The man in the warehouse was nothing more than a dead body, teeth removed and fingerprints burned off, dressed up to look like the Mad King. But by the time Haddock realized that, it was too late.

And Mica put a bullet straight through his skull. 

It wasn’t a large explosion, just enough to wipe out that floor of the warehouse.

And Ryan watched from nearby as the last remaining piece of the Fake AH Crew died. 

The media reported two confirmed dead- Grey Haddock, and an unidentifiable body, who they said must clearly be the Mad King. 

And so ended his reign.

But it was fine.

Because embedded in Haddock’s skull was a solid gold bullet. 

The Mad Queen’s reign had begun.

\--

Ryan Haywood was just some nobody who came to the same coffee shop as him every day.

But Jon couldn’t help but slowly fall in love with him. 

Eventually, he worked up the courage to talk to him. And something about his voice was familiar, but he couldn’t place it.

It was a long, slow relationship.

Ryan was always so very cautious.

It wasn’t until a year after they moved in together that Jon found out why.

He’d been cleaning out their closet when he came across the box. It was a tall one, stuffed deep into the back of their closet. Ryan wasn’t home, so he couldn’t ask him what was in it, so he figured he’d just look and then move it wherever it should go.

He wasn’t expecting this. 

Newspaper clippings. Some of them his, some older. All about the Fake AH Crew, the Mad King, and someone called the Red Assassin. 

A sniper rifle. Black, with red inlay.

A revolver. Black, with a gold crown.

A skull mask.

And a purple hoodie.

And suddenly Jon knew why Ryan’s voice sounded familiar.

He set the box down carefully on the floor, and sat on their bed, staring at it. He knew what he should do. He should turn him in. 

He was living with the Vagabond, the Mad King.

He was living with Ryan Haywood, his boyfriend of almost three years.

He couldn’t just turn him in. 

When Ryan came home, he still hadn’t moved.

“Why did you keep it?” He had to know, had to know if he still missed the killing.

Ryan sighed, sitting down next to him.

“Someone has to remember us. The newspaper clippings, they’re for all of us. Everyone else kept remnants of their own life. But…he didn’t want to. He wanted a completely fresh start. So I kept them for him, because someone had to remember.”

“Why did you let me go, that day in the warehouse?”

“You were interesting, and I didn’t make a habit of robbing the world of interesting people.”

Jon laughed at that. “That should not sound as romantic as it did.”

“No, I suppose not.” Ryan sighed heavily. “So where do we go from here?”

Jon stared at the box for a moment, before coming to a decision. “To dinner, I suppose. It’s date night, and just because you apparently spent part of your life as a psychotic kill does not mean you’re off the hook for taking me out somewhere fancy.”

Ryan nodding, smiling. “And then?”

“And then I suppose we take it a day at a time. You’re still my boyfriend, and besides. I’m Jon Risinger. I told you before. I’m not afraid of you.”

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this for forever. I didn't include Lil J specifically for that reason- this actually was started before him.


End file.
